


Doomed to Repetition

by Trista_zevkia



Series: Platonic [17]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sex Education, Time Travel, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2907617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Historically, gay sex was illegal and not talked about. Fortunately, Bruce isn't above breaking the law to do what needs to be done: Clark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doomed to Repetition

It was a weekday afternoon and thieves had stormed into Wayne Tower. In most cities, a brazen daylight robbery would be abnormal, but in Gotham, it was an attempt to avoid nocturnal predators. As if he wouldn’t track them down as soon as he was awake, but criminals were cowardly, superstitious, and stupid. Awareness of that same creature of the night made Superman hesitate when he heard the news, a small pause that only Lois Lane noticed before Superman was leaving the press conference for Gotham. As she was the only reporter to mention it, Perry would edit it out as unimportant.

Surveillance cameras in Gotham were unreliable at best, tending to fritz out just as proof of Batman was about to be captured. Today, the cameras were working right though, there simply wasn’t much for them to film. The thieves had been using _Die Hard_ as a training movie, hoping hostages would keep them from being captured. It should work, since John McClain didn’t really exist, but these guys were not Hans Gruber. 

They’d been picking up Wayne products and inventions as they worked their way down to the second floor boardroom, were Bruce Wayne waited alone for the next meeting to begin. It must have been a trick of the camera, but Wayne looked more interested in the devices he was being threatened with than the threats. 

Then there was the red and blue blur familiar to anyone who watched videos of Superman’s work, and a device thrown at Superman that exploded with activation light before it got near him. After the light died down, the thieves and their single hostage were gone, along with Superman’s blur, but the furniture and papers remained. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark was viscerally reminded of the swirl of a toilet, even as the portal shat him out. He wobbled a bit, but those that couldn’t fly found themselves falling. The second floor of the building they’d been on, no longer seemed to exist. Clark allowed himself a good look around while they recovered, and was glad he did. It would seem they were behind a small, wooden town. As a small town boy, where the backs of buildings weren’t actually right on top of each other, Clark knew the back of a building when he saw it. There was also the charming stench of human waste products dumped directly out windows, when it was too much effort to get to the four outhouses upwind of them. 

Bruce had managed to land gently at the end of an alley between two of the buildings, and was slowly turning around, taking in his surroundings. He looked up at Clark, and Clark could only shrug back at Bruce’s ‘time travel, again’ face. It was a peaceful moment of shared exasperation, broken as the thieves realized they were facing Superman and tried to run. 

Even as Clark took off for the nearest one, he wondered why the only thieves smart enough to run from him were too stupid to realize they’d been dropped back in time and needed to stick together if they had any hope of going to a climate controlled jail. Scooping up the nearest thug was easy, and then he was thrown into the next nearest. They fell in a tangle, and an envelope of light encased one of the two before he disappeared. 

The other started to yell, so Clark knocked him out with the third thief. As their heads collided, knocking them both unconscious to be collected later, light gripped them. Hoping unconsciousness was sending them back to the future, Clark settled for knocking them out as he went along. As for him and Bruce, well, maybe they’d be sent back once they fell asleep? If all else failed, he could knock Bruce unconscious, but only after getting permission in writing. He’d counted eighteen before he ran out of obviously running figures, so he turned to ask Bruce how many hostage takers there had been. 

Bruce was gone. 

Clark considered the ease in which he’d dispatched the thieves, and the few times he’d seen Bruce fight while disguised as Brucie. There was no way these goons had knocked Bruce unconscious, even if he wasn’t wearing his armor. Their fight hadn’t lasted long enough to catch attention, Clark didn’t want rumors of his red cape in history books too early, but now he had to track down Bruce. 

A bit of x-ray found him a cowboy’s duster coat left unattended on the roof of the, yes the brothel, not too far away. Hoping he could get it back before somebody was falsely accused of the crime, Clark flew in and picked it up. It smelled like it’d been on the roof for a while, but not as long as it had been on the cowboy, so Clark took a moment to get used to it before listening for Bruce’s familiar heartbeat. It was so very quiet here, even with the few hundred people nearby; that was almost more disorienting than the familiar noises of Metropolis had ever been. 

He searched in a spiral pattern that Bruce had taught him for only a few minutes before hearing it. Bruce hadn’t gone very far then, nor was he particularly worried about anything as his steady and calm heartbeat indicated. Focusing in on the sound, Clark found it was coming from a cave. He bit back the impulse to smirk, because really, Bruce? Instead, Clark made up a story about following Bruce with his eyes as he left the fight because he knew Bruce wouldn’t like that whole ‘I’ve memorized your heartbeat and can follow you from space’ thing. 

Unlike most of the time Bruce spent in caves, this time, he wasn’t alone. Sensing this, Clark made sure his duster was closed and hopped around in the dirt a little to take the shine off his red boots. Then, calmly, he entered the cave. There were two young men sitting and staring at Bruce with dazed expressions, one of whom had a gun on his thigh as if he’d forgotten he was holding it on Bruce. 

Bruce turned at Clark’s entrance and sent him a smile, a Brucie smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Clark, I was hoping you would arrive soon. I just need to you to run to the store before you join us.” 

Clark sent back a look that he hoped asked if they were now buying kidnappers snacks, but waited for further instructions. Bruce turned back to his kidnappers. 

“This might sound weird, but what year is it?” 

The one with the gun snickered, but the other one calmed him with a hand on his shoulder before answering. “1856.” 

“Right.” Bruce replied before turning back to Clark. “Might have to go to more than one store, as this is not a big town yet, but we need petroleum jelly and rubberized condoms.” 

Clark had many, many questions, and Bruce’s eyes narrowed in a command to just do it already. With a sigh of surrender, Clark got to it, after asking one question. 

“About that thing we came here for, how many was I looking for?” 

“Eighteen, plus the device.” 

“Right.” Clark backed out of sight before speeding off to pick up the device. If Bruce asked, the device was just waiting outside the cave for them. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

To other people, the idea of a board meeting ending in sex was something out of a bad porno. Bruce was getting the feeling that this was now his normal Wednesday, including the time travel. He’d expected the guns of the thieves and been ready for those, ready to fight his way out of that and into thinking his way home. He’d even been ready to take out the seventeen year old holding a gun to the small of his back, but the boy had said the magic word. 

“You’re coming with me city boy, we need your help.” 

The boy probably wouldn’t care or understand that Bruce was born and raised in Gotham, which right now was a muddy watering hole on the way to better things. But, he’d needed help, and Bruce had to find out more. He could always fight his way out later, he reasoned, when Clark wasn’t bowling with thieves. It was a short walk to the cave, the entrance of which faced away from the town, and probably everybody knew about it. The gun at his back had prompted Bruce to go in first, carefully taking the steep slope down until a second voice had called out at his approach. 

“Eric?” 

These two were masters of subtlety and hiding out, and Bruce allowed himself a quick eye roll. The shouter jumped to his feet when he saw Bruce; dropping the wet cloth he’d been holding to his bleeding lip. His left eye was swollen shut, and his left arm wrapped around his ribs. Bruce suspected injured ribs, and the ages of the eye and lip wounds were different, suggesting this kid had been beaten over several days. 

“Sit down, Charles.” Eric commanded, and Charles gingerly obeyed. There would probably be more spark from Charles when he wasn’t still feeling the hands of whoever had hurt him. 

Bruce walked over to look, but Eric jumped between them. With a shrug, Bruce sat on the ground, figuring he could talk them into letting him treat the injuries later. 

“I didn’t beat him up, so I don’t know why you dragged me out here.” 

“Eric, what did you do?” Charles hissed at his friend. Eric looked a little sheepish but did reply. 

“Look at his suit, his hair! He’s got to know about, um, things.” 

“I might at that, if I had any idea what those things were.” Bruce offered with a casual shrug. He couldn’t be bothered to put on his Brucie persona, not out of his time like this, but these boys were in trouble and he might be able to help without mucking up history. Might, depending on the nature of their problem. A few self-defense moves wouldn’t cause too many problems. 

“We’re going to hell for being in love and we’re terrified of hurting each other during sex but we still want to have it, since we’re going to be damned anyway.” Eric ejaculated, in a mix of defiant and scared tones. He held the gun though, one without the accuracy of a modern weapon, meaning it would be easier to accidently shoot Bruce than purposely shoot him. 

“Homosexuality is illegal, so you’ll have to move away from here, cut off contact with your families.” They shared an angry look, suggesting it was the family that was trying to beat the gay out of Charles. 

“Change your last name everywhere you go, in one place tell people you are brothers, cousins, widowers as you get older, anything to keep them from wondering why you still live together. Don’t underestimate the ability of a growing a beard to change your appearance. Always have a house with two beds, even if you don’t use them both, or use one for sex and the other for sleeping, so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. Be ready to leave wherever you settle at a moment’s notice; don’t try to sell all your stuff when the rumors start.” 

Charles looked like he wanted to take notes, but Eric looked slightly impatient, even though the gun was resting on his thigh and he was listening to what Bruce had to say. Bruce was working on starting the sex ed portion of the lecture when a noise got his attention. 

“Clark, I was hoping you would arrive soon. I just need to you to run to the store before you join us.” Clark was confused and irritated, wanting an explanation, while Bruce just wanted to move this along. 

“This might sound weird, but what year is it?” 

Eric gave a small laugh at the stupid question, but calmed at one touch from Charles, who answered. “1856.” 

“Right.” These two wouldn’t have to worry about AIDS, but there were other things they should avoid, and they’d need lube. Goodyear had only started making condoms the year before, so Clark might have to go to a big city to find what they needed. “Might have to go to more than one store, as this is not a big town yet, but we need petroleum jelly and rubberized condoms.” 

Clark wanted to ask, very much so, but Bruce wanted this over more. They communicated silently before Clark gave in. “About that thing we came here for, how many was I looking for?” 

“Eighteen, plus the device.” 

“Right.” 

The way Clark backed out of the cave made Bruce wonder if he’d forgotten the device, which might be their ticket home, but decided he’d be better off not asking. Instead, he turned back to the boys. 

“Some women prefer sex with other women. Tread carefully, but if you find such women, courting them might keep suspicion off of you. The further out west you go, the less women there are, so that will help explain why you aren’t married, just be ready for the questions. And now to the sex Eric is so impatient for.” 

Charles gave his boyfriend a shy smile for that, but quickly focused his attention back on Bruce. 

“Don’t be afraid to experiment, to learn what you like or don’t. Not all guys like penetrative sex. Sit in-between his legs, let him take you in hand and pull you to completion as if he was masturbating, or doing it to himself. Tell him what you like or don’t. Lay on your sides, and let him slide his cock in between your clenched thighs. Kiss each other everywhere, take his cock into your mouth, kissing and sucking and licking until he comes down your throat. Spit it out if you don’t like the taste, swallow if you do, personal preference counts for a great deal.” 

Charles and Eric shifted where they sat, and Bruce realized they’d mimicked the movement from him. He really shouldn’t be picturing Clark doing these things to him as he tried to be thorough in his explanation. When he’d had the sex talk with Dick, the kid already had an exhaustive knowledge of human anatomy. Bruce had been able to hide behind the technical terms, explaining why things happened without going into how damn good they felt. 

Bruce knew way too much about when, where, and who Dick had learned that part of things from, the curse of being a detective all the time. Still, prostate stimulation and sphincter muscles wouldn’t help him here. Whatever schooling these two had was learning by rote and example, and Bruce wasn’t going to use one of them for demonstration purposes. 

“So, you can have a completely satisfying sex life with just your hands, mouth, and a little bit of creativity. But, what you’ve heard about people like yourselves probably has to do with sodomy, or taking a dick up the ass.” Bruce cleared his throat, but still heard the squeal of surprise from the entrance to the cave. With a deep meditative breath, Bruce forced his body not to be nervous or emotional about what he was fixing to say. 

“Clark, I need an anatomical specimen, if you’d like to take off your clothes.” 

“Seriously?” 

Bruce turned to Clark at that, and tossed him the single eyebrow of ‘would I have said it if I wasn’t serious’. Clark pressed his lips into a flat frown that would probably compress coal into diamonds, acknowledging that even as he wondered if it really was the only way. What else would you have me do, Bruce asked with a crinkle in his face. A flick of his eyes to the men asked if Clark thought Bruce should use them for teaching aids. 

Clark jerked around and stomped out of sight, returning a moment later in his duster and nothing else. That got an eyebrow out of Bruce, as it made sense to hide his Superman uniform but the modesty of the duster covering was silly. Clark only held it tighter around him. Shaking his head, Bruce turned his attention back to the boys. 

“Eric, you could put the gun away; I’m not leaving now.” 

Eric looked embarrassed, but did holster the gun. 

“Right. Anal sex. Three things to remember; if it hurts, stop immediately, always use more lube than you think you need, and never put anything sharp up there, not even fingernails.” Bruce gave them a moment to let that sink in, but didn’t look at Clark when he next spoke. “Clark, if you could present your ass to these gentlemen?” 

Clark coughed on that, but did eventually turn his back to them and get on all fours. Pulling the duster up to hide his face, he seemed to be ready to pretend that this wasn’t happening. 

Bruce took this as a challenge, and made as much physical contact as he could while pulling the petroleum jelly and condoms out of Clark’s pocket. The split up the back of the duster was to make it easier to ride a horse, but right now it framed Clark’s ass beautifully, and Bruce could hear their audience adjusting their cocks. 

“Anything slick can be used for lube, or lubrication, but you should probably stick with petroleum jelly or things you’d actually eat. I know Clark is clean, he had a thorough bath before coming out here, so I can help him relax with my tongue.” 

Clark squeaked at that idea, but both boys made disgusted noises. Pulling Clark’s ass apart with his hands, Bruce let them see his target, and his tongue as it lead the way in for a lick. Bruce wondered if Clark always cleaned this deeply now, just in case, or if his own threshold for gross things had disintegrated. Clark tasted good though, and relaxed beautifully around Bruce’s tongue, fighting against the tensing he wanted to do from the situation. And his ass was perfect, solid yet giving, accepting the occasional bite or kiss until Clark moaned. The sound brought Bruce out of what he was doing, and he sat back to wipe at his mouth with a handkerchief. 

“Like I said, cleanliness is important for that. Similarly, having a good bowel movement, a really good shit, means you have room in there to stick a dick. Not that we’re ready for that; you’ve got to stretch him before you get that far.” Putting his handkerchief away, Bruce opened the jelly and held up a good dollop for them to see. 

With meditation breathing, Bruce worked that dollop into Clark’s tight heat. Bruce enjoyed sex, when he let himself indulge, but he was overindulging in Clark. Like a hormone addled teenager, or what he figured most were as he’d been too busy and exhausted from training to do more than yank one out back then, still, like that, he was reaching for the slightest excuse to have sex with Clark. If he’d been on this mission with anybody else, male or female, he’d have found another answer. He could have sent Clark out for paper and written the Gay Karma Sutra for them, but why waste the paper when he could slide another finger in Clark? 

“Okay, I’m not just jabbing these two fingers in Clark. I’m scissoring my fingers, like this.” Bruce used his left hand to demonstrate the motion, and when they nodded in understanding, he added a twist. “The scissoring and twisting his helping the muscles open up, relaxing them. Given enough time, they’ll tighten up again, so this isn’t something you only do the one time.” 

Dropping his left hand, Bruce used it to adjust himself again, hoping he wasn’t leaking into his trousers just yet. 

“There is a gland an inch or two up every male’s ass.” Bruce found himself stumbling over that sentence, wanting to say a biological male or something more gender inclusive, but that was a bit much to dump on these two, already so far out of their depth. 

“It’s called the prostate gland, and you’ll want to play with it to see what you like. Clark likes a circular rub.” Matching actions to words got a deep growl out of Clark, and Bruce unzipped his pants. This let his underwear covered cock poke out of the gap, and allowed Bruce to rub Clark to make that noise again. 

“This gland can also be reached outside the male body, between the cock and asshole.” Looking to the audience, Bruce watched them watch Clark as he rubbed his thumb on the outside while he also rubbed from the inside. Clark’s moan vibrated the cave walls, and Eric pulled his hard cock from his trousers. Charles looked as if he was about to bite through his lower lip but his eyes were focused on Clark. 

“When you feel he’s loose enough, add more lube and insert a third finger.” Bruce demonstrated, taking the time to see that Clark was hard and dripping onto the stone floor under him. “Keep playing with him until he is relaxed enough to take the fourth finger.” 

Clark gave a moan of protest, as if wanting to move along, but Bruce would rather their students start out with too much prep than not enough. A light smack on the ass let Clark know that Bruce was in charge of this situation, so he didn’t protest again. 

“Not everybody likes to be slapped during sex, that is something you’ll have to find out and talk to each other about. Clark has been stressed, so he’s not relaxing very quickly. I’m going to keep stroking him with my thumb,” Bruce paused to do this and let Clark moan his counterpoint. “And opening him up inside until he’s relaxed enough for a fourth finger. If I was ready for sex and knew he’d be coming home soon, I could open myself up for him using lube and daydreams of him touching me. He’d like that, to be able to walk in the door and find me laid out, finger fucking myself, just waiting for him to slide home into me.” 

Clark moaned, collapsing down to his elbows. This changed his angle and allowed Eric and Charles to see his swollen, needy cock. Eric pulled his dick out and held the base to keep himself from finishing, so he had more experience with masturbation than he admitted to. If he could keep that secret, maybe they wouldn’t be found out so quickly after all. Bruce turned back to look at Clark, to see about adding his pinky, but he was distracted by the sight he’d looked away from. 

“Beautiful.” 

Clark stiffened as the word escaped Bruce’s mouth, and then he was coming, untouched dick splashing come over the rocks. Bruce milked him through it, hand on the base of his own cock and audience forgotten. Realizing the panting wasn’t coming from Clark reminded him of them, and Bruce looked to them. 

“Not everybody can do that, come without being touched, so don’t think something’s wrong if it doesn’t happen to you. After such an orgasm, your partner should be nice and relaxed.” A quick but thorough test involved shoving almost his whole hand, with more lube, into Clark, and turning it. “I’m going to put on a condom, which will prevent disease and make clean up easier. Clark got some for you, but mine is different.” 

Of course, putting a condom on meant pulling his hand out of Clark, and Bruce had to force himself to do that. As they watched Clark’s asshole shrink a little, without Bruce’s hand holding him open, Bruce ripped open the package out of their sight. 

“Pinch the tip, so there is somewhere for your fluids to go, and pull the rest of it over your penis.” Bruce tried to show them this without showing that his condom was a different color, much thinner, and rolled up, but hopefully they got the idea. “I put some lube on the outside and slide slowly into Clark.” 

This was harder to do than say, as Clark almost seemed to suck him in anymore, so warm and welcoming, but Bruce forced himself to go slow, until his balls were on Clark. Resting a moment so he didn’t end this far too quickly, Bruce spoke to Clark. 

“Clark, how do you feel?” 

“You feel so good in me Bruce, I’m ready, I’m open, you can move, please.” 

“Clark, you’ve already come. Do you want me to hit your prostate or avoid it?” 

“Hit it, please Bruce, make me come again.” 

Bruce pulled out slowly, and pushed back in just as slowly. Tried to keep in mind that he was demonstrating, that he wasn’t just having sex with Clark, but Clark was, there, warm, moaning when Bruce pulled out, breath hitching every time Bruce’s ridge caught his prostate, and speed was the only thing that would find them the completion they needed. 

Bruce wasn’t sure why he was still wearing his suit, but he draped his body over Clark’s, let Clark take their weight because he was strong enough to do so, and began to pound into him. Bruce dropped his right hand to find Clark was hard again, so Bruce began to work him in counterpoint to his thrusts, to slide out and pull out on the cock at the same time. 

“Bruce!” 

The name was a warning, and Bruce bit his lip as they both came, blitzing out on each other. It was a long moment before Bruce came back to himself, and a moment longer before he remembered their audience. A quick looked showed Charles and Eric had a hand on each other’s spent dick, minds still lost to pleasure. Clearing his throat got their reluctant attention, and helped Bruce’s dick to soften enough to pull out. 

“When you,” Bruce had to stop and clear his throat again, try to get it back up to its normal register. “After you’re done, it might take a few moments for you to get soft enough to pull out. If you do so, hold on to the base of the condom so it doesn’t get left behind inside your lover.” 

Bruce demonstrated, cock twitching at the disappointed sound Clark made. Pulling it off, he tied the end where they couldn’t see and dropped it in his coat pocket. 

“The condoms Clark got you are reusable, just wash them out between uses, and make sure you use one if you ever have sex with a person who isn’t in this cave.” Clark snorted at that, so Bruce gave him another slap on the ass. He wasn’t planning on sharing Clark with these two, but it was easier than trying to list all the people the boys might have sex with in life. “Clark, go get dressed.” 

Clark got to his feet with the ease of somebody flying a little, and Bruce could tell, but he was probably the only one. As such, their students were probably wondering about the smirk Bruce had to wipe off his face. 

“Have a damp rag handy for after sex, to make clean up easier. You don’t want to fall asleep and let it dry on your skin, besides being uncomfortable, somebody could walk in on you and tell what you’d been up to. Any questions?” 

“Bruce, the device is beeping!” Clark called, voice echoing a little, and Bruce got to his feet while trying to tuck himself in. He managed both and ran, letting him poke his head out of the cave just as a white light grabbed him. 

The blinding light of multiple camera flashes had him closing his eyes, adjusting before slowly opening them again. He could hear Superman talking to people, likely scientists and press, so he put his Brucie face on. When he dared to open his eyes again, the first thing he looked for was if Clark had managed to get dressed before the machine went off. He had, and a sense of relief helped him act like Brucie through the questions that followed. Bruce was also careful not to mention that the device that had transported him back in time was supposed to be a food replicator, an idea basically stolen from _Star Trek_. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

One of the top screens that made up the viewing wall of the cave was playing the local news. It was muted as Bruce worked on a lower screen, but Clark still recognized the interview as he flew toward it. It was the same interview from the 6 o’clock news, repeated during the 11 o’clock Gotham news, which had sent Clark to a cave. Not this cave, not at first, but a familiar one nonetheless. With the sewer below it and the apartment building above it, Clark had to carefully tunnel into it, but he quickly found what he was looking for. On the TV, reporters had asked Brucie about his hostage crisis. 

“You’d have to ask Superman where we were, but I think it was out west. We must have been in one of those ghost towns or Wild West Shows. Had fun, met some great guys, but lost a cufflink.” Brucie pouted down at his remaining cufflink. “I liked these cufflinks.” 

“Are you offering a reward?” Asked a reporter, the camera still focused on Brucie. 

He gave a surprised smile, but there was no flash of intelligence in his eyes, telling Clark that Bruce had thought about this before he was interviewed. 

“That’s a great idea. I don’t know how much they are worth, so let’s say, $20,000 to the person who brings me the match to this?” 

The camera shifted to focus on Bruce’s remaining cufflink, and the reporters went on to stir up activity, speculating on the real value of these cufflinks if that was the reward Brucie was offering. 

Clark knew that Bruce could tell exactly how much the cufflinks were, as a pair or taken apart and sold as stones only. Bruce also knew exactly when and where they’d been, and it wasn’t ‘somewhere out west.’ 

This left Clark with one question he couldn’t answer, so he had picked up the cufflink and brought it home. 

“Bruce, why did you send a bunch of amateur treasure hunters out west?” 

“Massive drought brought on by climate change; they could use the tourism boost.” Bruce gave a small shrug. “Families hoping to get lucky might take the kids, get them interested in history before we’re all doomed.” 

“Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.” Clark muttered, mostly to himself. “What if whatever is getting repeated isn’t a mistake?” 

The seemingly idle question got Bruce to look up from his work, if only to side-eye Clark briefly. 

“Then you might need to clarify your definition of mistake.” 

Clark had no reason to feel a sharp stab of rejection to the dismissal of a hypothetical question, but he didn’t say anything until he’d placed the cufflink on the arm of Bruce’s chair. 

“This cufflink now has an entirely different history than its match, it’s even a hundred years older. A little bit of work though, and they’ll be perfect together.” 

Bruce’s spine stiffened, but he didn’t reply. Clark took that as his sign, and left the cave. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 


End file.
